


A Fair Trade

by link621



Category: X/1999, xxxHoLic
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-11
Updated: 2004-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:57:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/link621/pseuds/link621
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Subaru has a plan to rid the world of the Sakurazukamori forever; he turns to an old friend for help, and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fair Trade

“This is our client?” Watanuki demanded, waving a finger frantically at the man who sat with his legs folded under him at the table. Of course, the man could hear him, but Watanuki was still wasn’t mindful of the fact that paper walls, no matter how you looked at them, were, in fact, made of paper. So, he believed himself safe to shout, being just in the next room.  
  
Yuuko shook her head, making a “tsk” sound under her breath. “Serve him some tea, would you?”   
  
“He looks like he’s part of the Yakuza,” Watanuki grumbled, rolling up his sleeves, and adjusting his apron. “People just don’t go around dressed in all black like that.” He reached up, tying a bandana around his head, and glanced at Yuuko who was casually roaming through her racks of magical objects she had received as payment for her services over the years. “He won’t kill me, will he?”  
  
“Probably not,” Yuuko assured, waving a hand at him. “Just don’t speak badly about the government, and you should be safe.”  
  
Watanuki’s mood made a drastic swing, as his moods were often prone to do, and he shouted, “what, is he some sort of government assassin?”  
  
Yuuko gave Watanuki an even glance her usual smile gone from her face. “Yes.” Watanuki’s jaw dropped. “He feeds his victims to a soul-eating sakura tree in Ueno Park.”   
  
“Y—Yes?” Watanuki squeaked.  
  
“Don’t make him wait—serve him tea,” Yuuko scolded, going back to looking for whatever it was she needed in order to help their client. Watanuki just hoped he’d make it through the night.   
  
\---  
  
Normally, he wouldn’t have come to see Yuuko—his family had a bit of an… understanding with her, so they were on good terms, but he preferred to not have to come asking for a favor. He really only had so many important things to lose. Short of his left eye, actually, he was pretty much out of important things he could trade for her services.  
  
That is, other than his own services. And, he did know about the problem Yuuko’s assistant had. He leaned his cheek against a gloved hand thoughtfully, his hair falling into his eyes as it so often did, lately. Part of him thought he should get it cut—another part didn’t see how it mattered. Actually, the latter seemed to be his outlook on life when it came to most things.   
  
He drummed the fingers of his free hand on the table. There was a time, nine years ago or so, when he had observed dignity no matter where he applied himself. There was a time, a year ago, when he managed to be dignified whenever he was in the presence of another human being. It seemed, ever since his family had essentially disowned him and left him to rot, he didn’t care much about dignity anymore. Dignity be damned, he was bored.  
  
What was taking the witch so long, anyway? Normally, whenever they had done business in the past, it had taken her only a matter of minutes to have him on his way. Then again, in those times, their exchanges had been simpler. He knew she knew what he wanted, and he was well aware that to give that to him, there was going to be a price to pay—a serious price to pay.  
  
She couldn’t have his left eye. He supposed he could give up his right eye, but it wasn’t exactly his to give—literally. Really, the only other thing she could take from him that would affect him at all right now was the thing he wanted to get back. Perhaps it was strange of him—perhaps not—to think like that. He’d lost track of what other people thought of him long ago.  
  
Well, that was, when he couldn’t hear them yelling about how he looked like Yakuza through the thin wall of the shop. Really, that boy seemed… brainless. Spirited, sure, but rather dimwitted. Of course, he would be lying if he said he couldn’t sympathize with the poor boy that had been tormented by his ability to see spirits. His grandmother insisted it was a blessing—Subaru, himself, thought it more a curse.  
  
“Ah—Sumeragi-san,” said boy said nervously as he came back into the room, now wearing an apron over his school uniform and a bandana over his reasonably tidy black hair. He had light eyes—unusual for someone of Japanese decent—but really, who was Subaru to talk? Also, he wore glasses, but they suited him well. If one completely ignored his personality, he wasn’t particularly attractive. If one counted it in, Subaru was all for hooking this boy up with Kamui.  
  
They had to be soul mates. Just the thought of it made Subaru groan, and hide his eyes in his hand that had been holding his cheek. Realizing this would probably look distinctly strange to the boy carrying the tea tray, he supplied, “You may call me Subaru.”  
  
The boy nodded hastily, coming to the table. “Would you like some tea?” He sat to Subaru’s left, taking a cup from the tray and placing it in front of Subaru before picking up the kettle.  
  
Subaru raised an eyebrow at him, smiling wryly. “What, no tea ceremony?”  
  
The boy made an indignant noise, but was saved from answering by the witch entering the room. She wore a kimono, which was nothing shocking, but it fit her properly, closing around her neckline—looking very conservative. Her hair was down, except for a clasp that held some of it back at the top of her head. It emphasized the shorter layers of her hair around her chin and her bangs. That face was pale under makeup, and her lips were painted blood red. If he didn’t know Yuuko’s personality, he might have thought her demure and doll-like.  
  
“Yuuko-san,” Subaru acknowledged with a bow of his head. Yuuko nodded her head in return, coming to sit across the table from Subaru, smiling at her serving boy. He was staring dumbly at her, as though she had grown a second head. “I supposed you know why I’m here,” Subaru continued, thinking it best to be forthright.   
  
“I do,” Yuuko tilted her head, letting one unnaturally pale cheek rest against a delicate palm. “Though—I really don’t understand why it was you who came for it, and not Seishirou-kun.”  
  
“Kun?” Subaru snapped immediately before he could keep himself from saying it. Feeling sheepish for being so indignant in the presence of such a wonderful magician, he put one hand over his mouth. “I didn’t realize you two were familiar,” he explained a moment later, sounding as lame as his explanation.  
  
“Seishirou-kun came by here many times after the year of the bet ended—but he never came looking for what you’ve come for today…” Yuuko trailed off, glancing to her right where her employee was clasping his hand over his nose. “Watanuki?”  
  
“It smells,” he managed. He motioned at Subaru. “It’s coming from him… it’s his eye…” Watanuki proceeded to run out of the room, still clenching his nose. As soon as he was on the other side of the wall, they could hear him gasping for air.  
  
“That’s an interesting way to experience spirits,” Subaru commented, blinking. He reached up his hand, covering the eye that was not his, and smiled. “I guess I don’t notice it anymore, but Seishirou-san’s spirit is always with me.”  
  
Yuuko shook her head. “Watanuki’s just bipolar, you get used to it.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Sumeragi-san, I’m going to be straight with you—I don’t know why you want this, or what you hope to gain from it, but I don’t think you can pay me.”  
  
“I think I can,” Subaru argued, also leaning forward. From within his coat, he pulled out a small glass box—a gift to him from Fuuma. “I can give you this—in exchange for that hair comb.”   
  
“You want the hair comb… why?”   
  
“To exorcise the tree—but to do that, I need to first exorcise Seishirou’s spirit from my body.” He knew the look he was getting at that moment was clearly meant to call him crazy—and considering his words, he well deserved it. To his surprise, though, Yuuko just nodded, reaching out to take the glass container from him. “This held the spirit of Seishirou in it?”  
  
Subaru nodded. “It did—it preserved his eye and the power of the Sakurazukamori long enough for the power to be transferred to me before the tree died.”  
  
“You know that you will die if you break the contract with the tree?” Yuuko added seriously after a moment. “There’s a reason why all the Sakurazukamori before you were a little bit insane—they really had to actually want the job in order to willingly destroy their predecessor.”  
  
“I’m ready for it,” Subaru responded with a heavy, relieved sigh.  
  
“I’ll get Seishirou-kun out of you, then,” Yuuko agreed. She leaned across the table, running her tongue over her lips to moisten them. “Seishirou-kun, you always loved your mother the most…”  
  
When their lips met, Subaru didn’t feel as though he was the one in control of his body. He immediately responded to her probing kiss, rising away from the floor a little to pull himself closer to her, the table digging into his hips. One hand went to her obi, working to undo the cloth that suddenly seemed so unnecessary. His other hand went to her hair, getting a good handful of what felt like layers of raven-feather silk.  
  
He found himself crawling up onto the table to get closer to her, breaking the kiss in brief spurts allowing time enough to breathe and to get her up on the table with him. Soon, he had her pinned against the table, his tongue probing inside her mouth, as he finally pulled the obi free, and slid his hand under the folds of her kimono.  
  
His gloved hands ran over naked skin, brushing over her ribs and up over the curve of her breasts. She made a small noise, prompting him to open his eyes.  
  
A child-like face, painted to look like a doll, framed in black hair and freshly fallen snow looked back at him. He smiled at her, watching the blood start to seep into the snow around her shoulders. “Mother, you look beautiful,” he murmured, his lips falling to her pale neck, alternately nipping at and kissing her exposed throat.  
  
“Take off your gloves, Seishirou,” she instructed. He did as told letting her take his left hand to her lips as he worked at the buttons of his school uniform, feeling the cold winter air bite at exposed skin.  
  
The moment wavered. For a moment, it was warm, and he didn’t quite know where he was. Then, he felt lips fall on his right hand, and he came back to himself.   
  
Subaru stared down at Yuuko who was now naked below him, her kimono gathering about her elbows. He was pressed against her, saving himself from embarrassment only by sheer virtue of his own body blocking his view of anything too private.   
  
But—the world was blurry. He couldn’t quite place what it was, but it was like his balance was all off. He moved off of Yuuko, muttering apologies the whole way, and miscalculated the distance to the floor from the table, crashing to the ground. The moment his head hit, he could feel something thick and warm trailing down his right cheek.  
  
Then the pain came—the familiar pain that he had experienced once before. Subaru screamed, clutching his right eye, feeling blood seep between his fingers. That was it—he had lost his eye again. Or, Seishirou had lost his eye. But, at least the marks were gone—Seishirou was finally gone.  
  
Subaru took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself that he did need to breathe, and looked back to Yuuko. She was holding her kimono closed around her now, and the comb had been removed from her hair. She extended her hand to Subaru, handing him the comb, and he took it gratefully.  
  
“Thank you, Yuuko-san,” he managed, his voice breathy.  
  
“I’ll ask Watanuki to call an ambulance,” Yuuko responded simply, padding barefoot out of the room.  
  
Subaru allowed himself to curl up holding the comb close to his stomach. It wasn’t exactly what he had meant to happen when he entered the witch’s shop—then again, with Yuuko, one rarely got what one wanted or expected.


End file.
